Tale of the Third Son
by Ajaja
Summary: PLEASE WRITE REVIEWS! Cold, calculative, and enigmatic - nobody knows much about Kyouya Outori. Now here's his side of the story: the pressures as the third son, the friendship with the Host Club, but first and foremost, THIS IS A LOVE STORY.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The bell struck three times on the clock tower of the high school.

A sleek limousine cruised by, and its passenger looked quietly out at the campus.

"_That_," the driver explained, "is Ouran Academy, miss."

The passenger gave no response – not even a nod. Her eyes were big bottomless pools, reflecting the clouds splotched onto the blue Japanese sky. The driver glanced at the rear-view mirror, and then cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh, by the way, Master will not be able to welcome you on your arrival. But he sends his most sincere—"

"That will be enough, Akito-san," the young lady interrupted, her voice as still and fragile as an autumn leaf.

The driver's eyes darted nervously to the mirror once more. He swallowed.

"…Yes, of course, miss."

And no more was said.

* * *

"C'mon, Haruhi! Just this once!"

"NO." the scholarship student refused tiredly. "So…_geez!_ Let me _go_ already!"

Haruhi Fujioka cast a look of annoyance at the twins. They had each fastened onto one of her arms, and were unwilling to free her until she agreed.

"Y-YOU TWO!" Tamaki fumed. "How dare you come in such intimate contact with my daughter? Release my Haruhi NOW!"

The little devils ignored him.

"_Ha-ru-chaaan~!_" they pleaded with their usual grin – identical and naughty in every way.

"NO." Haruhi repeated for the 100th time. "Why do you guys want me to put that thing on anyway? It's not even part of the Host Club activities."

The Hiitachin brothers held up the pink frilly dress.

"Well, then," Hikaru replied after a moment, "we'll just _make_ it a part of the Host Club activities."

"Bingo~!" Kaoru chimed in. The younger twin immediately turned to the vice president. "Yo, Kyouya-senpai! How 'bout it for tomorrow's theme: _gender-bender!_"

Kyouya looked up from his calculations and out of habit raised his glasses with two fingers.

"Gender-bender," Kyouya considered thoughtfully. "Why not. Our customers will enjoy it."

"YESSS!" the twins hissed at their success.

"Eh, cross-dressing?" Haruhi frowned. "But wouldn't the students realize that I'm not a boy if they see me in girl clothes?"

"No," Kyouya stated oh-so-surely. "There's little to no chance that they will find out. Even _with_ the feminine attire."

"What's…that…supposed to mean…? =_=" Haruhi narrowed her eyes at her "mother," slightly offended.

"See, Haruhi? Nothing to worry about!" The twins' mouths stretched from ear to ear. "So let's go and put this on!" They grabbed their fellow freshman and dragged her into a changing room.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" exploded Tamaki. "Get your perverted hands off her this instant!"

"But Tono," Hikaru persuaded, "don't you wanna see your daughter in this pretty little dress?"

Tamaki's inner mind theater popped up his head, imagining – no – _visualizing_ his beloved Haruhi in the pink frilly one-piece, skipping around a flower patch. He blushed furiously.

"Change of plans!" Tamaki joined the Hiitachin brothers. "Haruhi, put that on at once!"

"NOOO!" Haruhi screamed as the boys forced the newest Host Club member across the floor. At that moment, Honey and Mori entered the chaotic scene.

"Sowie we're late~! ^0^" Honey skipped in. He observed the commotion with curiosity, and scratched his head in confusion. "Hah? Why is Haru-chan playing tag?"

"Mm." chimed in his faithful companion.

"Ah, good morning. Honey-senpai. Mori-senpai," Kyouya greeted casually. "It seems the trio is preparing her for the club's gender-bender theme."

"Gender-bender?" Honey's light-brown eyes lit up with excitement. "Just like when St. Lobelia's came over?"

"Yes," the vice-president answered as he typed into his laptop, "except this time, we must resort to a plainer cosplay. The ball gowns from last time cost quite a deal of the Host Club incomes. Perhaps the school uniform—"

_Ring ring. Ring ring._

The shadow king recognized his ringtone, and reached into his pocket.

"Kyouya Outori," he picked up.

"Kyouya," the caller spoke.

The third son's face grew stiff and cold. He paused before responding to his name.

"Yes, father."

A solemn silence plagued the Host Club, and they stood frozen in action as they turned their attention to Kyouya. He listened dutifully for what felt like hours of a tense one-sided conversation, and with an obedient "yes," he hung up. All eyes were on him as he shut his notebook and stood up from his seat.

"I'm sorry," he excused himself as he exited the Third Music Room. "An urgent family occasion has come up."

He shut the grand double-doors, and his footsteps echoed down the hall.

"What could have happened…?" they wondered.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Remember, Kyouya, what I have told you earlier."

Kyouya looked down at his wrist as his delicate fingers tightened the last button on the sleeve of his tuxedo.

"Yes, father."

And without even a glance at each other, the two Outori men stepped into the Sakamoto residence.

The scenery changed drastically as they entered the ballroom from the darkness outside. The guests were strutting about in their formal silk and satin attires, holding champagne glasses in their hands. Sweet music from the string quartet weaved into their polite chatters; the new marble floors clicked against their waltzing feet. And the light from the chandeliers hanging above flooded their world with warmth.

It was a typical party for the wealthy and the privileged – a social gathering for elite families. And right now, there were too many of them to even count, all in one place.

Kyouya lowered his eyes from the brightness and recalled his father's words from when he had come home after the phone call.

_'The Sakamotos are holding a ball this evening.'_ He had spoken monotonously with his dry voice.

'_Originally, I had planned to attend alone with your mother, but there came to me sudden news that the young heiress to their corporation has recently arrived in Japan, and will be present at the event as well." _

He had turned to Kyouya, his hands sternly behind his back.

'_The Sakamoto Enterprise is one of the leading conglomerates in Asia. Although the Sakamotos and the Outoris have completed a few projects together in the last years, you understand better than anyone how unstable our alliance is with the receding economy.'_

Then, he had looked firmly at his son, full of expectations.

'_I trust myself to leave the rest up to you.'_

Kyouya had looked back at his father and nodded, masking his determination behind the glare of his spectacles.

And now, here he was, ready for his mission.

Several people turned their heads in awe as the Outori men marched across the ballroom to approach the host. He was a lanky male with a small beard disguising, with no success, his youthful face. Kyouya recognized the man before he even met him.

"Good evening," Mr. Outori greeted as he shook hands with Mr. Sakamoto. "It's a lovely gala."

"Thank you for coming," Mr. Sakamoto smiled politely. "And the fine gentleman next to you must be..."

"Yes," Mr. Outori gestured. "I would like to introduce you to my youngest child, Kyouya Outori."

Taking his cue, Kyouya bowed his head.

Mr. Sakamoto examined the teenager – courteous, intelligent, not to mention handsome. He appeared to be proud of him, as if he were his own.

"I must introduce you to my daughter as well," Mr. Sakamoto said, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Ah, here she comes."

And with the sound of stilettos and the rustle of a dress, they found themselves with another member.

"This is my daughter, Miyuki Sakamoto."

The young lady who stood next to the host quietly bowed her head. She was thin, and her shoulder-length hair was dark brown with a deep reddish tint. Her eyes were big bottomless pools – a sharp contrast to her pallid skin. Her physical traits left a timid and soft-spoken first impression of her on the guests. However, a heavier, overpowering aura of reticent bitterness hung about her, like a porcelain doll untouched on a dusty shelf.

"Miyuki," Mr. Sakamoto continued, "will be attending Ouran starting tomorrow. Please take care of her, Kyouya-kun."

Kyouya secretly cheered at his good fortune. How convenient. The target was inching closer to him on its own.

"Of course," he assured.

Mr. Sakamoto expressed his gratitude with a smile. He turned to the children.

"Why don't you two excuse your parents now?" he said. "Mr. Outori and I have some affairs to discuss."

"Yes," Kyouya replied, and escorted Miyuki to the garden outside.

The air felt moist with the scent of the evening dew. The pair sat beside the fountain. Its trickle and splashes drowned out the noises from indoors.

"Japan is quite different from the States, isn't it?" Kyouya started, attempting to break the ice.

"…"

No reply. =_=

Perhaps she didn't know how to speak Japanese…no. Kyouya would try once more, with a smile. He meant business, and if a smile was going to help him seize the Asian economy in his hand, he would do it. But what must he do to keep her interested…?

A sudden feeling of déjà vu crept into him.

"Do you want me to accompany you in a tour around Kyoto?" he offered, remembering his encounter with Tamaki.

Miyuki stared blankly at Kyouya.

"No," her voice was as still and fragile as an autumn leaf. "I don't want to see any more of this godforsaken place."

Kyouya chuckled softly as if she had merely rejected his offer with a "No, thank you."

And without even a flinch, he responded coolly.

"I see. Unfortunately, though, you will have to call this 'godforsaken place' your home for the rest of your life."

The girl chewed her lower lip, and her bony figure stiffened. There was a chirp of a cricket, and a hesitant pause before she opened her mouth again.

"Then maybe I'll just run away."

Miyuki's gaze was fixed on the water, and when Kyouya observed her lifeless eyes, he saw no hint of joke. He casually raised his glasses with two fingers, seeming unsurprised by her guileless comeback.

He smiled.

Miyuki Sakamoto, the future inheritor of the powerful Sakamoto Enterprise. And after tonight, a fellow student of Ouran High School. She was not going to be easy to please.

Who knew? In fact, his mission may be much more difficult than he had ever planned.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kyouya walked into the Third Music Room.

"Kyouya!"

"Kyou-chan!"

"Senpai!"

All of the Host Club rushed to the vice-president, curious and eager and nosy as ever.

"What happened?" they questioned in chorus.

Ignoring the 6 pairs of eyes burning upon him, Kyouya casually settled down at his table.

"Nothing," he replied as he typed away in his laptop.

The members fell apart in disappointment. They knew something much more than just "nothing" had happened the other day. But no one even dared to try and pry an answer out of Kyouya Outori. After all, the boy himself was a walking enigma.

* * *

"Good morning," the teacher greeted the class of 1-A. With him entered a freshman with an unfamiliar face.

The room turned their attention to the front.

"Please welcome our new classmate," he gestured to the young lady beside him. "Would you introduce yourself?"

The girl paused, and looked blankly past the students.

"Miyuki Sakamoto. 16."

"…"

"…"

"…" =_=^

Everyone waited with open ears, expecting more. However, Miyuki merely sealed her lips and stood perfectly still.

An air of uncertainty muted the entire class.

"T-thank you, Sakamoto-san," stammered the teacher, breaking the silence. "Now, please take your seat…" he searched for an empty chair. "Ah, next to Fuijioka-san."

The new student nodded tiredly, and quietly obeyed.

Miyuki Sakamoto? Haruhi glimpsed at her new desk partner. She knew nothing about her…But she knew that her brief, almost impolite debut had not been a good first impression.

"Best not to associate with her," the host noted to herself.

Just then, Miyuki slowly turned and faced her neighbor. She wordlessly examined the scholarship student with an unreadable expression.

"Why," she questioned, "are you wearing a male uniform?"

O_O

The twins raced to the scene.

"AHAHAHA...!" Hikaru forced out a laugh. "W-what are you saying? It's only natural for a _male_ student to wear a _male_ uniform!"

"Yes, of course!" Kaoru chimed in, flailing his arms in the air. "But Haruhi is quite pretty for a _boy_, isn't he?"

The Hitachiin brothers hopped up and down in panicky persuasion.

But Miyuki merely shifted her gaze back to the chalkboard ahead without another word.

* * *

"Kyouya-senpai!"

The demon lord lifted his glasses with two fingers.

"Yes?"

"Code red!" the twins alerted, sweating fiercely. "We've got to change tomorrow's Host Club theme NOW. We absolutely CANNOT do gender bender!"

"Hah? But why?" Honey popped up, embracing Usa-chan.

The brothers explained diligently. "This new chick in class…We think she figured out Haruhi's true identity!"

The Host Club gasped. Haruhi shrugged.

The twins continued. "Hold on…! Her name…what was it? Mika-? Miyu-?

Then suddenly, as if on cue, the young Sakamoto heiress stepped into the Third Music Room.

"That's her—!" the little devils pointed.

But Tamaki had already captured her hand, ready to entertain his customer.

"My, my, who is this little lamb who strayed into our castle?" his violet eyes twinkled with princely charm.

Miyuki stared at the blonde, wearing her same poker face.

"Vain."

At her word, thunder crashed and stormy clouds loomed over Tamaki. A streak of lightning struck the brokenhearted "daddy," and shriveled him up into ashes. A wind gathered his dusty remains to a distant corner.

"Vain…I'm…vain…" T_T the pile of soot wept weakly in agony.

Haruhi twitched at his overreaction. "S-senpai…Are you alright?" =_=^

Kyouya, who had been observing the drama, stood up and approached Miyuki. "I'm sorry, Sakamoto-san, are you lost? Were you looking for someplace?"

"The way out of here," she replied curtly, "but there are so many useless hallways and buildings."

Kyouya shut his notebook, and smiled.

"Allow me to show you," he offered. He escorted the girl out the door…and out of sight.

The Host Club blinked.

"Who is she?" they wondered.

Frowning, the members scratched their heads in frustration.

Kyouya had left them buzzing with a new question. Again.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Miyuki refused to touch her Poulet Chasseur avec Pommes Chateau.

At the far end of the dining table, Mr. Sakamoto gulped down a glass of water.

"What's wrong, Miyuki?" he set his cup beside his plate, and prayed for a clatter of silverware that would ease the burdening air of silence between them.

But Miyuki did not reply, nor did she pick up her fork.

"So," he tried again with a sigh, "has Outori-san been showing you around campus?"

Miyuki looked down at her food, uninterested.

"This Kyouya boy…its seems you want me closer to him," she muttered.

"Naturally, he's a fine gentleman," Mr. Sakamoto replied. He glanced cautiously at his daughter before he added, "As a matter a fact, I'm hoping you'll become more than just friends with him."

Miyuki froze, and glared at the older Sakamoto.

"You're thinking of making him your son-in-law," she stated.

Mr. Sakamoto dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

"It's a possibility," he shrugged.

"Great," Miyuki smiled sarcastically, "so who may be the lucky bride?"

"Now, now, Miyuki," Mr. Sakamoto spoke up in defense, "I am your father and it's obvious—"

"Father." Miyuki repeated the word in disgust. "And so you are. Is that why you can call me back here whenever it's convenient for you? What about Mother? What about me?"

"Miyuki, I know it's difficult…"

"No, you don't," her voice faltered. "You don't understand it at all."

She hurriedly stood up from her seat and stomped out the door.

* * *

8:30 P.M.: Outori Residence.

Kyouya stared up at the high ceiling as he lay in bed, his glasses still on.

"One of the top 5 leading architecture companies in the nation," he analyzed in his head. "And after their collaborative project with the Outori group on the construction of our newest hospital, perhaps they're now in the top 3."

Kyouya closed his eyes. The more he analyzed, the more he wanted the Enterprise in his hands. But which bait to use…?"

His cell phone rang, and he sat up to answer it.

"Kyouya!" Tamaki shouted into the phone. "What is the meaning of all this? Who is that girl? What's your relationship with her? How can Mommy keep a secret from Daddy? KYOUYAAA~! T0T"

Kyouya removed his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

"Miyuki Sakamoto. Family acquaintances. Because I can," he answered promptly. "Well, then. I'm hanging up."

"HOLD ON!" Tamaki cried out. "We need a Mommy-Daddy talk _immediately_! Meet me in A-Mart at 9'o clock."

"A-mart? Why a commoner's convenience store—?" But before Kyouya could protest, Tamaki had hung up.

"That baka," he grumbled, and called for the driver.

* * *

Kyouya could not hate the Suou more for forgetting to specify _which_ A-mart, out of the 8 in the city, the two were supposed to meet at. To add fuel to the fire, out of hurry and excitement, Tamaki had apparently left his cell phone in his room.

And so…

Kyouya was waiting at a different location for half an hour. It was a long enough time for his short patience to reach its limit. With his hands jammed into his pockets, the third son stepped out of the convenience store into the cacophony of traffic and bustling pedestrians outside.

"I'll make him pay for this…" he swore under his breath. Just as he was trudging to the curb to catch a cab, a girl rammed into his shoulder.

"Ah, komenasai," he apologized, and turned to the girl. Her face was dimly lit and covered by her hair; her shadowed features almost impossible to make out. And if this story had not been a romantic one, the two would have passed by each other nonchalantly, as strangers in the dark.

Kyouya stopped, raising an eyebrow.

"…Miyuki-san?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Miyuki looked up at Kyouya in surprise, and the Outori looked down at her in curiosity.

How small the world was, even for the wealthy! Kyouya read the panic, discomfort, and embarrassment in Miyuki's face and knew – the prey was at his mercy.

"What brings you here?" he asked, amused. "It can't be that Tamaki has called you out as well?"

"It's none of your concern," she snapped. Flustered and annoyed, she started down the sidewalk.

Kyouya shrugged.

"But it certainly concerns Chairman Sakamoto," he spoke up, producing a cell phone from his back pocket. "It wouldn't be impolite to call him so late, would it? After all, he lets his daughter on the streets at this hour."

Miyuki froze in her track.

She swirled around, piercing Kyouya with a hateful glare. Kyouya leisurely smiled back, ready to manipulate, ready to win.

"What do you want?" she demanded bitterly.

"Your safety, of course," he lied. "Allow me to escort you home. I was just about to catch a cab myself."

"No!" she shook her head furiously.

"No?" he cocked his head, holding up his cell phone.

Miyuki gritted her teeth, and growled. Her eyes, fixed on the cell phone, seemed ready to shoot out lasers.

Kyouya smiled again. He caught a taxi, and opened the passenger door.

"Ladies first?" he gestured for her to get in.

"Hmph," she grumbled, but obeyed.

* * *

10:34 P.M.

As the cab neared the Sakamoto Residence, Kyouya could sense how nervous Miyuki was becoming.

"You look like a thief on the run," he smirked. "Guilty."

"I don't know what you're saying," she replied curtly. "Just drop me off here."

"But why?" he teased. "We're almost there."

"Stop the car!" she commanded, and the taxi driver jammed his brakes. The passengers leaned forward from the sudden halt.

"Relax," Kyouya looked coolly at his watch. "Even if you walk home alone, I still plan to greet your father tonight. So, might as well enjoy the ride." He gestured the taxi driver to continue.

Miyuki bit her lip. She had run out of the house arguing about how she refused to be engaged to Kyouya. If her father were to see her escorted back home by the Outori boy, she would face more than just embarrassment – her ego would be destroyed.

KYOUYA MUST BE STOPPED.

"Outori-san," she said, smiling slyly. "How about we make a bargain?"

Kyouya turned to her in surprise.

"A bargain?" he questioned. "As in, a deal?"

"Exactly," she said. "In exchange for dropping me off here and keeping tonight a secret from my father."

Kyouya grinned, and he quickly analyzed the situation in his head:

_1. She doesn't want to be seen with me._

_2. But I need to know her better._

_3. How should I force my opponent to open up to me without making it sound like I'm forcing her?_

Bingo. A solution flashed into his head.

"How about," Kyouya suggested. "you make her your friend?"

"Huh? Who?"

"Your classmate. Haruhi Fujioka."


	6. Chapter 6

Miyuki glanced awkwardly at the honor student, who was diligently scribbling in a notebook by her side.

_ Make her your friend. Haruhi Fujioka._

Miyuki scowled. What the heck was the Outori boy up to? She had been expecting "Arrange a meeting for our families," or "Persuade your father to invest in another joint project with the Outori,"or other completely business-related demands along those lines. But instead he had asked her to befriend a transvestite.

Whatever, she decided, suppressing her growing curiosity. She wasn't planning to stick to the deal anyway. Besides, she remembered, her father hadn't said anything to her last night or this morning. He probably didn't even know that she had been gone...

She swallowed. She should be relieved that he didn't know. But a part of her nagged and whined softly in her ear a small, single word.

Disappointment.

"Hello, Miyuki-san," a sickeningly gentle voice greeted her, and she looked up from her tray.

"What do you want," she snapped, lifting an eyebrow as she stirred her silver spoon in her creamy soup.

"Why don't you join us at our table?" the Outori invited. "Haruhi would be happy to have lunch with a friend."

"Friend?" she scoffed. "Sorry, if you're talking about our little bargain last night, it's off."

"Oh, is it?" Kyouya questioned without a flinch. "Perhaps my demand is too much of a challenge...?"

"Pft, a challenge?" Miyuki rolled her eyes. "It's just pointless. When striking a deal, shouldn't you be asking for something that would benefit you? What I'm saying is—"

"You can't do it." he interrupted with a smile. "You don't know how to make a friend. You're afraid to even try."

She looked up at him with a frown of annoyance.

"You see, Sakamoto-san," he shrugged coolly, turning to walk away. "What I don't understand is that you hate this 'godforsaken place,' but you can't even survive in it."

"Shut the hell up," she glared at him menacingly. She stood up abruptly, and stormed out the cafeteria.

Alone in the courtyard. She sat on the edge of the fountain, staring at her rippling reflection and listening to the trickles and splashes. She replayed the scene at the cafeteria again and again in her head, and Kyouya's voice seemed to echo louder and louder each time.

Everything he had uttered with that terrible smile had been true. It was almost as if he had seen straight through her.

He had violated her ego. Why hadn't she fought back? Why hadn't she denied his words? Why hadn't she stayed as collected as he had?

Anger, from self-resentment and remorse, shook her small frame.

At that moment, Tamaki strolled into the scene. He was carrying a box of instant noodles, whistling along when—

"Holy bejeebus! o" he froze in his path, startled. "It's that girl again!"

He took cover behind a pillar. Aw, shucks. He would just tiptoe past her and avoid her eyes as much as possible. He held tightly onto his box and eyed the girl cautiously.

But wait. Why was she was shaking violently? Was she sick?

Tamaki approached her for a closer look.

"Hey..." he squatted in front of her and stared up at her pale face. "Are you okay?"

Miyuki bit her lip and turned away. Her lip was slightly quivering.

Tamaki twitched. The clock tower struck once, marking the end of lunchtime, but there was no way Tamaki Suou would leave behind a troubled girl alone. He slumped down next to her.

"Don't," he started awkwardly, "don't mind me, just do what you need to."

A tear streamed down her chin."I hate him, I hate him, I hate him," she whispered fiercely.

Tamaki put a gentle hand on her shoulder, and turned his head away from her. At his touch, Miyuki suddenly broke into sobs.

She hated Kyouya. She hated his suave manners and his unchanging voice. She hated his gestures of fake kindness and his mysterious intentions hidden behind his glasses. She hated his cruel, cunning smile. But what she hated the most was how pitiful she was right now, finding comfort in some stranger boy.

"I hate myself," she said.


	7. Chapter 7

The host club activities were finished for the day, but Tamaki sat in solitude, gloomily slurping down a cup ramen.

"Tama-chan?" Honey asked worriedly. "Is something wrong?"

Tamaki swallowed the mouthful of noodles and let out a long sigh.

"No, it's nothing," he lied.

"Don't mind him, senpai," Kyouya said, still typing into his laptop. "Tamaki's probably just upset that the twins devoured Haruhi's bento while he was away during lunch."

"Ah, okay," Honey nodded reluctantly. "Then I'll be leaving! Kyou-chan and Tama-chan bye-bye!"

And the third year students left.

"Well," Kyouya stood up, closing his computer. "when you're done, don't forget to lock the doors before you go—"

"Kyouya," Tamaki interrupted solemnly. "Something strange happened today and it seems I can't quite forget it."

The Outori zipped up his school bag. "If you're talking about the bento incident…" he said uninterestedly.

Tamaki cocked his head. "Huh? What bento incident?"

Kyouya now turned to the blonde with interest. This was strange. It wasn't the bento that Tamaki had been flustered about.

"Okay, then what," Kyouya said, leaning against a wall next to Tamaki, "is the problem? You've hardly been yourself all afternoon." He pushed up his glasses with his index finger.

"This girl," Tamaki started after a hesitant pause, "I've met her only once. Actually, I thought she was intimidating, so I've been dodging her. But today she…"

Tamaki looked straight into Kyouya's eyes. "She was crying. I think it was more out of anger than out of grief. Still, when I lent her a shoulder, she seemed really…I don't know. Different."

_Looks like Haruhi found herself a rival_, Kyouya thought with a bemused smile.

"Don't give it too much thought," Kyouya said as he headed for the exit. "Unless you plan to see her again."

The door clicked behind the Shadow King, and Tamaki was left alone to think.


End file.
